


I've Got You

by dontshootmespence



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dom/sub Play, Domme, F/M, Masturbation, Pegging, Strap-Ons, Sub Dean, Sub Dean Winchester, Wax Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:21:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23448454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontshootmespence/pseuds/dontshootmespence
Summary: After a difficult hunt, Dean’s wife provides him with some relief.Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or their original stories. This is only for fun. It's where my brain goes after the credits roll. No copyright intended. Better safe than sorry. ;)
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean Winchester/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 31





	I've Got You

As he tumbled into the bunker, you watched Dean massage his aching muscles, his hand working out the knots between his shoulder blades.

“How’d it go?” You asked. As the wife of a hunter, this was a win - at least he was alive. But by the dark streaks of drying blood on their clothes and the grimaces etched onto their faces, it was clear that this hadn’t been a run-of-the-mill case. “Not just a small nest, was it?”

“Fuck no,” he mumbled in return, his head falling against your shoulder as he stood at your back. “Big nest. Had t’a be about 20.”

Your heart jumped in your throat, mind reeling with the realization that you could’ve easily lost him tonight. Reaching behind you, you ran your fingers through his hair and kissed his forehead. Falling in love with a hunter was no picnic, but Dean was who he was because of hunting - and you loved the man he was. “Do you want to relax?”

Without a word, he nodded against the hard angle of your shoulder, pressing kisses along the curve. “Yes, Mistress,” he whispered, nibbling gently on your earlobe.

Slipping into your role, you spoke against his temple. “Then be a good boy for Mistress. Go inside. Strip. Get on all fours. I have something planned to get you outta that head of yours.”

“What makes you think I’m in my head?” He asked genuinely, walking toward the bedroom.

You and Sam replied at the same time as he snaked his way between you to grab something to eat from the fridge. “I’m your wife.”

“She’s your wife, dude.”

“A’right, you two. Shut up.”

When he left the room, Sam gave you a hug hello. It was your thing with your brother-in-law; your way of making sure he was okay too. “We lost someone.”

“I figured as much,” you said softly. “I’ll get him out of his head.”

Sam chuckled and bit his lip, his hands resting on his hips. “I guess that means I’ll be putting on my headphones.”

“Probably a good idea.” You snickered.

After placing the final dish onto the drying rack next to the sink, you tidied up the area, knowing full well Dean would be buck naked on your bed and raring to go. But anticipation was everything with Dean. And to you. You had no control, never knowing if he’d come back or not, but in these moments you did. And you treasured them.

Nearly 10 minutes later, you sauntered into the bedroom, mouth dropping open at the sight of Dean on your bed just as instructed - naked, on all fours and waiting. “Hello, Mistress.”

“Hello, my love,” you purred, walking alongside the bed and dragging your fingernails against the scar-riddled skin. “Have you missed Mistress?”

Swallowing against his growing need. He mumbled his reply.

“Use your words, baby.”

“I missed you, Mistress. S’much.” He’d only been away for a couple of days, but like this, with him at your whim, it had been a while longer. You’d missed this too.

As he anticipated your next move, you paced around the bed, appreciating the beauty before you. “Do you realize how beautiful you are?” You knew he never thought of himself like this. But he needed to know. To know how deep your love for him ran. All the little things you noticed. The way his calloused hands, so rough and hardened, sat softly atop your bedsheets. The way his body relaxed under your gaze, chest rising and falling in rolling waves. The way his cock hung thick and heavy between his thighs, ready for your touch. No matter how many times you took this all in, no matter how precise the picture in your mind remained, you made sure to appreciate him. All of him.

His breath hitched as you bent to kiss the healing scar on his back, courtesy of a young werewolf who had no idea of the men he was fighting. When your fingers danced across his skin, his cock twitched expectantly. Before he could even get the words out, you chided playfully. “Patience, baby. I’ve got you.”

After spreading some lube into your hands, you sat at his side, snaking your arm around his left leg and slipping your hand around his straining cock. With the other hand, you reached behind him, fingers grazing over the muscular curve of his ass before cupping his balls. “No coming without permission. Okay, love?”

“Yes, Mistress,” he replied thickly. “Need your permission.”

A smirk formed at the corner of your lips as your thumb brushed back and forth over the head of his cock. You started out softly, your featherlight touch driving him crazy. He groaned, bucking down into your hand, either unable to form words or knowing he’d get what he needed on your time, not his.

Leaning your head against his back, you let out a laugh. “So needy already, baby. I think I should have a taste.” You removed your hand from his cock, chuckling again at his strangled moan as you slipped your thumb into your mouth, washing your tongue over the pre-cum coating your finger.

When he glanced back, you saw his pupils blown, light green giving way to darkness. But there was still something behind his eyes, some semblance of a thought dancing around in his head. And you couldn’t have that. Turning your attention back to his cock, you began sliding your hand up and down, tightening your grasp at the base and the tip in perfect rhythm. With the other hand, you massaged his balls, thumbing the seam that separated them. Dean groaned, his chest dipping toward the bed for a quick moment before he steadied himself. “Oh, fuck, Mistress.”

“You like that, baby?”

“Yes,” he said on a growl. “So much. Need more.”

Giggling, you bit your lip and picked up the pace of your movements, tugging lightly with long, languid, sure-handed strokes that left him groaning and grunting. “Can I come?”

“Excuse me?”

“Can I come, Mistress?”

“Thanks for asking, but you may not,” you chuckled darkly, letting go of him completely. “I have other plans for you first.”

Dean swallowed the lump in his throat and watched as you strode across the room to search for your strap-on and the special wax you liked to use on him. It was a garish red that contrasted beautifully when it hardened on his skin. For the last few minutes, he’d been staring at the wall, letting his mind go blank, but those beautiful green eyes sparkled back to life when you stood in front of him, slowly stripping yourself of your clothes and sliding on the strap on. “How do I look, baby?”

“Fuckin beautiful, Mistress.”

“Want me to fuck you?”

“Yes, please,” he replied, nodding furiously as the words got caught up in his throat.

As he steadied himself on the bed, you applied more lube to your hands, roughly grasping the cock between your legs. You loved being a woman, but this was a nice way to switch things up every now and then. The wax began to warm at your side, the luscious, red, almost liquid taunting you. One of these days you’d have to ask Dean to use it on you.

Gliding your thumbs up and down the globes of his ass, you lubed up his hole and crawled up onto your knees behind him, placing the head of the red cock against the tight ring of muscle. Gently, you pushed against him, steadying his hips with the weight of your hands. Your grip tightened as you slipped the head of the cock just passed his ass - his gasp of pleasure bringing a smile to your face.

Pushing back against you, Dean grunted, desperation flooding his features - every twitch of his muscles, every buck of his hips, every curl of his toes. It was a heady perfume to watch a man so in control lose it because of you. Once you fell into a steady rhythm, rolling your hips against his ass, you leaned over to grab the melting candle, holding it over the canvas of Dean’s back and waiting for the first drop to start off the painting.

You heard Dean gasp below you before you saw the small blotch of red wax, quickly hardening against his sweat-slick skin. With your thrusting shallow, almost massaging his prostate, you experimented with the wax, letting it drop from different heights and at uneven paces. Each drop that landed on his skin brought a beautiful pink bloom behind, the sting just enough to pull Dean away from what was bothering him and into the present.

All of a sudden, you had an idea, bending over as much as you could to whisper in Dean’s ear, pushing the strap-on in even deeper in the process. “I’m gonna mark you, baby. Should I take a picture so you can see?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Good boy,” you purred. “While I mark you, I want you to fuck yourself on this cock, okay? I think you deserve it for being so good.”

“Thank you, Mistress.” He groaned, pushing himself back on the strap-on. For a moment, you were too entranced by his movements, watching as it disappeared inside him over and over and over again. He was quickly losing control.

Turning your attention toward his back, you dripped the wax in precise, steady movements, smiling when your picture came to life before your eyes. It was a little messy, with Dean fucking himself against you, but it was clear what you’d written. “Stop moving,” you commanded. “My turn now.”

Immediately, Dean stilled, allowing you to reach for your phone and take a picture of your artwork. “Would you like to see what Mistress did?”

He groaned in response, and you pitied him, not requiring him to use his words. Dipping down toward his face, you held the phone out. Written across his back in wax was the word ‘mine.’ “Yours, Mistress. Please. Please fuck me. God, I need it. Please.”

“That’s not fair, baby, you know I can’t deny you when you beg.”

Pulling out nearly all the way, you teased him, pulsing the head of the strap-on at his asshole, before plunging into him, moaning at the way his ass pulled the device inward. You picked up your pace, fucking into him relentlessly until he was sweating and moaning and needy and begging.

Soon enough, you were gracelessly bucking into each other as you roughly stroked his cock. Over and over again, you told him how beautiful he was and how much you loved him. “I want you to come for me, baby. Touch yourself while I fuck you.”

Dean grunted in appreciation, tugging at his cock more quickly than you could in this position. “Thank you, Mistress.”

You lost yourself in the movements, breathing heavily as you took in his features, observing how his mouth dropped open and his muscles tightened just as he was about to come. Before he could fall over the edge, you raked your fingernails up his ass, making him shiver as he pushed himself flush against and cried into the sheets below. He spilled into his hand and onto his stomach and then fell into the mattress, a drawn out moan leaving his lips when you pulled back and the strap-on dropped between your legs.

“Fuckin hell, Y/N.” His face was smashed into the mattress, blissed out and happy, muscles like jelly. Trembling, he pushed back up onto all fours and started to move off the bed.

“Wait there, love. I’ll clean you up.” After divesting yourself of the strap-on, you grabbed a couple of wipes, handing some to him to clean up his stomach while you took care of his perfect ass. “Stand up.”

Slowly but surely, he did as you commanded, resting his hand on his shoulder in search of yours. You entwined your fingers with his and began to peel the wax off of his back, letting it drop unceremoniously to the floor with the intent of cleaning up in the morning. “Now get your sexy ass back into bed.”

With a sleepy smile, Dean chuckled and slipped under the covers, extending his arm to gather you close to him. “Thank you, Y/N. You’re the best wife ever.”

He always said wife so proudly and it made your heart soar. “Do you want to talk about tonight?”

For a moment, he stiffened, but he knew he didn’t have to put on pretenses with you. “Tomorrow.”

“Okay, babe. Just close your eyes. I’ve got you.”


End file.
